


The Three Times Loki Temporarily Disappeared (And Once When He Disappeared For Good.)

by trix_lyesmith



Category: Loki (movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Marvel) - Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Frigga, BAMF Frigga, Baby Thor, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Drama, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frigga Feels, Gen, Jötunn Loki, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Mother/Son, Parent Frigga, Warning: Loki, baby Loki, choc full o' feels, family ties, loki and his mama, mother of all mothers, odin actually not doing bad as a dad, oh god if this family can't sort itself out, super strong amazing frigga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:32:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trix_lyesmith/pseuds/trix_lyesmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three drabbles looking into mama Frigga adjusting to motherhood, and to the rather talented and tricksy new addition...</p>
<p>...and one post-Thor drabble of how she felt directly after the 'incident' at the Bifrost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Three Times Loki Temporarily Disappeared (And Once When He Disappeared For Good.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I would give everyone killer Loki-mama feels for New Year.
> 
> Happy New Year!

*****  
The screaming coming from the nursery was enough to wake the dead.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she awoke with a sudden exclamation, so that she almost choked as her words struggled out.  
“Hm-Thor!”

She had no doubt, even in her sleep-addled mind, that the distress was coming from her eldest child – a mother can easily make the distinction – but what disturbed her the most was that her youngest wasn’t making a single noise in response…

Flustered, midway between the shores of Dream and Wake, and with only half her wits about her, she disentangled herself hurriedly from the sheets and clambered out of bed. 

In her panic her limbs had stiffened, so that they hardly did what she required of them, yet she hurtled out of her bedchamber and into the next room at breakneck speed, regardless of her own safety.

She raced to Thor’s cot-side, hushing and shushing as she gathered him up in a bundle of blankets and bounced him comfortingly upon her hip...but he was the least of her worries; at least she knew _he_ was safe. Heart pounding, she raced to the next cot, newly installed, freshly painted…

It was empty.

If her heart could’ve escaped her chest it would have, she almost felt it clamber up the bars of her ribcage and lodge in her throat – she certainly couldn’t cry out in her terror, for fear she would let it burst free. So it raced and rattled around her chest in wild panic. 

Thor instantly picked up on her distress and wailed louder still. She tried desperately to rock him, to pat his back and lull him into a sense of security, but her mind was clouding over with unimaginable fear, and tears were springing to her eyes…

Where was he? Where was her bab-

“Frigga..?”  
She whirled around in a daze and saw her husband standing in the gilded doorway, cradling a peaceful little bundle and looking at her bemusedly. She must have appeared wild; her hair sticking out at all angles, startled and wide-eyed, standing there a half-dressed mess.

“My dear heart,” he whispered into the darkened room, “ _whatever_ is the matter?”  
She stood rooted to the spot, stunned into silence. Her jaw worked soundlessly, trying to form words in her confusion but nothing came from her lips.  
He moved into the room and Loki, lying in Odin’s arms quite contentedly, began to stir a little but did not cry. Thor’s sobbing had dulled at their approach, yet still he spluttered achingly.  
Odin stood beside them both and gave a lazy yawn.  
“Both wide awake I see!” he chuckled, wiping the tears from Thor’s cheeks as the baby settled. Then he looked to his wife with a twinkle in his eye, “I think they may be doing a good job of playing us for fools.”

Incredulous, she let out a deep and frustrated sigh and shut her eyes to stop the room from spinning.  
“You utter, _utter_ fool!” She hissed, trying not to disturb the children once more. “I thought- I thought that-!”  
“-You thought...what?” He interrupted, looking at her askance.  
She paused, glaring furiously.  
“I....” her eyes shut tightly once again.  
“Did you think him gone? Taken? Snatched in the night-?”  
“YES.” She raised her voice, angered that, essentially, he had won. He’d proved his point.  
“Yes. I did.” She muttered rather desolately. “What in all the nine realms do you think you were _doing?!_ ”  
He moved past her and lowered the snuffling little infant into his cot. His skin was milky and pale; he looked for all the world like any other Aesir child. She thought a moment on his true appearance and her heart went out to him. She did not fear his heritage - in fact, a part of her couldn’t bear to think of him being forced into living a lie...  
“I heard him stirring. I did not want him to wake Thor in his distress. But I see now, that they teamed up against us both,” He leant down and tickled Loki under the chin and he reciprocated with a giggle, “Played us against one another... a little mischief-maker, eh? Hm...” His eyes glimmered with amusement.  
Her heart stuttered back into rhythm as she watched Loki settle and looked down at Thor, dozing peacefully.

“I don’t believe you,” she stated sulkily. “If this was some attempt of proving to me that I care for the child as I do my own, then-“  
“Oh, my love,” he tutted, “never! However….now you mention it... it has seemed to do just that, am I correct?”  
“-THEN...it would be _entirely_ unnecessary.” She finished her sentence stubbornly.  
A moments’ silence fell between them, before she lowered Thor into his cot and turned to face Odin once more.  
“Husband, I fell in love with the child at first sight. It is you who harbours the doubts over his true nature, not I. Yes, at first, I admit... I harboured some of my own. Raising the son of our enemy? Keeping it a secret from everyone – including our own son? 

But, my love and affection for Loki was instant, and has only grown and grown since. He is our family now. I would always have welcomed him with open arms.”  
He placed an affectionate hand upon her cheek. “As I knew you would.”

As he stepped away, she grabbed the front of his apparel.  
“Do not presume that I agree with what you are doing, Odin.” She said sternly. “I do not like lies.”

 

****  
The three of them had been quarantined in the nursery quarters for several days now.

Every time he sneezed he would switch to his Jotun form, and whilst his pinkinsh baby colour was always quick to return, it worried her husband lest it should be witnessed by the staff.

Despite his mischievous look and apparent humour at the situation she was ninety-five percent sure that Loki was unable to control it.  
It was unlikely that Thor would remember seeing this phenomenon occur, being so young himself, so she had taken the opportunity to hole them up in the warm and cosy nursery, with strict instructions to the entire palace staff not to disturb them.

Quality mother-and-baby time.

They had read stories, and sang songs, or rather, _she_ had, and they had laughed and giggled and watched intently, and she had savoured every moment of it. They grew up so fast she thought wistfully. A few hundred years and they would be full-grown before she knew it.

Her youngest son sneezed rather loudly, and the switch to blue skin was virtually instantaneous. This time it seemed to take a little longer for him to shift back to Aesir-form, so she gazed upon him awhile. She was often fascinated by Loki’s Jotun-form. He was so small; she had never seen a Jotun infant so tiny. The whorls and swirls that covered his body, like raised little scars, were quite beautiful. She knew in that instant that had the rest of the citadel not been so indoctrinated against the Frost Giants she would happily have raised him in his own skin.  
She watched him laying there wriggling and sucking on his tiny fist, and smiled.

He sneezed. And in that blink-instant, he disappeared.

Although quite alone, Frigga looked around her, as if to check if anyone else had witnessed what she had just witnessed.  
Then she looked to Thor, who sat up on the bed staring at her with a puzzled look on his face.  
“...Lo Lo...” he mumbled, looking at the spot where his brother had been just two seconds ago.  
She put her finger to her lips, “not a word” she whispered, and winked at the older boy. He laughed out loud.

Carefully she reached out a hand to where Loki had been lying, carefully...carefully... and felt squishy soft flesh at her fingertips. With a curious smile she tickled his tummy and was rewarded with a happy little giggle.  
She laughed aloud, momentarily relieved.  
Her concern over whether he would be able to return was short-lived; he soon sneezed again and came back in his Aesir form, completely un-harmed.

She picked him up and held him out in front of her. His eyes seemed to glimmer with delight. She began to ponder his magical abilities. Was he born with these powers? Surely not – a Jotun?  
She shook her head and watched as he looked down at her with his crystalline eyes and shoved his fist into his mouth and chewed.  
“You are most peculiar, aren’t you?” she chuckled.

 

***  
“Ow…. Ow-ow-ow OW!” Tears dripped onto Thor’s breeches as Frigga tended to his wounds, somewhat heavy-handedly.  
“ _Uuff_...When I SEE that boy!” she cursed, picking brambles out of Thor’s knees.  
Thor snuffled and braced himself against her tweezing of his delicate wound.  
“Well, when he sees fit to re-materialise his self, of _course_...” she called out to the otherwise empty room, “all I will say is, he’d better run. And FAST.”  
“It was an accident!” Thor blurted out, wincing at his mother’s bedside manner.  
She raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a steady glare. She could see through both her sons as though they were transparent as a glass of water, and could smell a lie at ten paces.  
“Oh, _really_...?”  
He confirmed with a tentative nod, eyelids pink from crying and clutching his arm to his chest. It was merely a bruised elbow yet he held onto it gingerly, as though it were broken.  
“How--many--times. Have I _told_ you, _not_ to try and fulfil your brother’s _ridiculous_ dares…?”  
“-But mother!”  
“-I don’t care _how_ invincible you both think you are, I’m telling you that you _aren’t_ …” she tut-tutted at the torn fabric of his tunic and dragged him to his feet unsympathetically. She straightened his attire “… if you even think...”

It was as they moved that she heard the shuffling of small feet running toward the doorway.  
“Loki!”  
She went charging after the footsteps, which sped up as she gained on them, and as she reached the door she whispered an incantation in their direction, and quicker than lightening Loki’s form shimmered back into reality, just as she grabbed on to the scruff of his tunic.  
Panting he looked at himself, now revealed, in horror. “No fair!” he cried out.

“I’ll give you ‘not fair’!” she said, whirling him about and pushing him back into the room.  
She gave him an encouraging little shove toward Thor, who seemed to shrink at the sudden prescence of his younger sibling.  
“Apologise to your brother.” Frigga meted out somewhat calmly.  
“-But!”  
“THIS. INSTANT.”  
She stood, arms crossed, fury spread across her features. A not- to-be-messed-with-under-any-circumstances expression.  
Loki scowled and bit back his tongue; he said not another word, his little fists clenched.  
She thought she could see her own scowling-face in his, and wondered for the briefest moment if that kind of thing was down to nature or nurture.

His black hair guttered in his eyes as he continued his fiery little gaze at his brother, who almost gulped with fear.  
“Sorry,” came out through gritted teeth.  
She grabbed the boy’s shoulder and span him round. “ _And_...”  
He fixed her with an icy glare. Ooh, he was a stubborn little godling!  
“...don’t you _ever_ glamour yourself out of my sight again, else I will stop teaching you magicks, and that will be that. Do I make myself clear?”  
His glare wavered. Pain struck his countenance as the thought of his one great passion being taken away from him crossed his mind. His eyes brimmed and sulkily he lowered his gaze, shamefaced.  
“I’m sorry mother...” he muttered genuinely.  
She stood silent a moment and then choked back her own temporary guilt.  
“Then you are forgiven.” She said, her voice cracking faintly.  
She looked upon her two boys.  
“Now. Play _nicely_. Like two loving brothers should. You know I don’t like it when you fight.”  
She stepped out of the room softly, but paused a moment outside the doorway.  
The whispered words, “that’s the last time I _ever_ cover for you...” from her youngest son struck her heart dully, and the pangs of guilt took a long while to dissipate.

 

**  
“Hello Heimdall,” she whispered in a low breath.  
It was a voice that did not seem to come from within her at all. It barely passed her lips. It did not even sound like her own voice. Yet, it had been days since she had last spoken, so she would not really have been surprised if she had forgetting the sound altogether.

She had left the feast and celebration inside; there had been too much noise, to much food. Too much merriment.  
Whilst her people gathered to celebrate her eldest son's safe return, and she with them, she could not let go of the sorrow that was gutting her insides, clawing away at her heart as she tried to paint on a smile.  
Her youngest son was missing.

She had walked across the rainbow bridge dazedly, watching it shimmer and glitter here and there, flickering and changing colour so subtly beneath her feet, appearing so delicate yet standing so sturdily. 

And her stomach had twisted as she neared the broken, stuttering end.

The spot where the Bifrost had once so regally stood – the gateway to the other worlds that used to honour and obey them.

The spot where her son had committed high treason... and, it was presumed, lost his life.

Her feet would not, could not, take her any further. She peered down into the vast nothingness below. Watched as the vast waters surrounding the shining citadel, Asgard, the realm eternal, rushed over the edge of the land beneath them.

Heimdall did not utter a reply. He simply regarded her now-frail countenance with respect and then returned faithfully to his post.  
“Any sign?” she wrung her hands.  
Heimdall remained silent for a moment, but she saw a flicker in his eyes that meant he could not keep himself from helping her.  
“No, my lady.”  
“You _are_ looking, aren’t you?” she whispered, desperately.  
“Just as ardently as you are, my Queen.”  
At that moment he uncharacteristically placed a tender hand upon her wearied shoulder. “You have my word.”

“But so far... I see nothing.”  
She shut her eyes and dreamed of the days when Loki had disappeared from her sight, only to return so swiftly after that her momentary panic had seemed almost worth it just to see him again.  
Now she would give anything for that rush of relief to wash over her once more – but the chances of that were slim to none. She was even beginning to think that maybe...he would never...  
She shut her eyes tightly, the thought of it too difficult to bear.

Intuitively, as always, Hemidall turned to her and spoke reassuringly, “I do not think it means what you are thinking my Lady. Loki had found a way to shield himself even from my sight before this event occurred. If he should wish to continue hiding from my vision now, he could do so quite readily...”  
“Heimdall, I know many do not share my view,” she sighed deeply, freeing the pain that had been welling inside her for days, her voice struggling to escape, “but I simply cannot bear to think him dead…”

Heimdall gave a taut smile in sympathy.  
“Perhaps he is biding his time. After all, should he return so soon, he would only face imprisonment...or worse.”  
“I would rather him locked up in our prisons, home, and safe and well, than condemned to some wretched fate...” her sentence trailed off into weeping.  
The tears fell readily and uninhibited. There wasn’t anywhere private for her to express her sorrow in the halls of Asgard, but out here on the Bifrost she felt freed from emotional restraint.  
Heimdall stood straight and true, dignified as always.  
“I’m sure we would all rest easier should he be returned to us, your grace.” Heimdall spoke with diplomacy.

She looked out across the vast empty space before her, the weight of sorrow burned within her chest as she gazed up at the constellations, and hoped upon hope that he was out there, somewhere, and that she would be the one to find him.


End file.
